


Monsters, Demons, and Voices in your Head

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry Sam, i hate myself now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a silence. A silence in which a shaking, broken man and another filled with guilt managed to situate themselves at a table. A silence filled with apologies and horrific instant replays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monsters, Demons, and Voices in your Head

In his perspective, it seemed alright for a while, and he would think that for a long, long time, whenever he lost himself. Until words lost their meaning and nothing existed.

He would lie to himself forever.

The blood was darker than he envisioned it the first time, but it was now a color that tinted his soul just like it had to the basement floor. Every single thought was dark and red. Every word was stained in the blood of someone who didn’t deserve the pain. He never thought twice, never considered consequences.

The one holding the knife was truly the archetype of a psychopath.He believed he was undeserving of his accommodations, deserving the tenements, or a cardboard box in the middle of a city where the rain drenched everything in sight. That was only true when he wasn’t himself anymore. 

 

If you don’t count the person in the basement, he is lonely in the big house, surrounded by all that land and open space. Too much sky, too many stars. The isolation of the place was convenient, for no one could hear the screams resonating from the basement. No one was there other than the two brothers, and occasionally their friend, a mess of anguish, nightmares, loathing, and secret pity.

 

Back when things were just beginning to spiral, Sam had thought Dean was possessed, but that theory was quickly disproven. It was almost like a switch had flipped and all of a sudden Dean wasn’t Dean. He was a monster, insane, a wild gleam in his eyes which served as a sickening reminder that his sanity was unreachable and he was gone. He hadn’t wanted to kill his older brother, or send him to a mental institution. Not doing anything was the biggest mistake Sam Winchester ever made. 

October 17, 10:52 PM  
Dean sighed, walking around the house, checking to make sure everything was in place. Locked doors, windows and blinds shut. Cell phone battery taken out and laying next to the device it came from. Money in various forms in a locked drawer of his nightstand. All three locks on the basement door were locked. 

He only unlocked them on the few occasions he went down to see his brother. 

There were blood stains on the floor, and Sam looked depressed and hopeless. Tired.   
“Dean.”

Sam said, trying to keep his voice as sharp as the tone Dean had used so many times. As sharp as the blade used to cause him so much torment, making a sad attempt to not sound like he was fighting off tears along with the urge to beg. 

“What?”

“If you want to do it, you can. I can see that urge to kill you have. It’s alright.”

Dean laughs, a dark, bloodthirsty look in his eyes. 

“Oh, Sammy. You’re trying so hard.. Stop pretending to be strong.”

Hours of bruises and bloodshed followed Sam’s show of desperation. There were very few half-hour periods in between. 

“Hey Sam,” Dean said, “Don’t try anything.” He allowed Sam use of one of his arms. His wrist was an angry red from when he used to struggle against his bonds, yelling and screaming for Dean to be himself again. 

Sam drank from the bottle of water he was provided with, extremely grateful. 

“You want food?”

The younger Winchester just nodded, enjoying the lack of thirst, and his brother left the room with a small nod, deciding to keep the door open and unlocked.

Is this real?

The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, then descended down the stairwell. Dean Winchester, cruel and cold, set a bowl down on a table in the far corner of the room. A salad, because Sam liked salad. He allowed Sam to get up, which is when he realized Dean wasn’t the person he had gotten used to. He was normal.. Sane. 

Sam attempted to stand, but it didn’t work out well. He cried out in pain, and Dean helped him up. “I.. I can’t Dean…” His older brother moved the table closer, Sam watching him and taking shaky breaths. 

“It’s only three steps, Sammy,”

Just three steps.

There was a silence. A silence in which a shaking, broken man and another filled with guilt managed to situate themselves at a table. A silence filled with apologies and horrific instant replays.

“I’m sorry..”

Dean was the first to break the silence. The room was packed tight with pain, remorse, and fear.

They were both aware of the great injustice done.

“Don’t. Just.. Tell me why.”

He sighed, taking hours to explain the changes the metaphorical switches and not being in control, how he never wanted to do anything. Never wanted to hurt his brother. 

Sam listened, eyebrows furrowed and gaze sympathetic despite everything. He was so tired, so exhausted, that it was a chore to eat and keep his eyes open. It took effort to pay attention. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry until he couldn’t cry anymore, but he wouldn’t let himself do that.

“So, are you just gonna stay down here and wait until you go nuts again? Or are we gonna go upstairs and try to figure things out?"


End file.
